In quiet acknowledgment of today and the massive and painful significance of it, I’m hosting a giveaway. Leave a comment, any comment – silly, happy, thoughtful, or wiseass (we love wiseass! Or, even better, wiseacre!) – and you’ll be entered to win one of the following prizes:
An Eccolo leather journal from my favorite drool-worthy store, Ninth Moon.
A DVD of Oscar winning film Once, whose co-creator Glen Hansard was the source of the “Make Art, Make Art,” quote in the title.
A DVD of Bitchery favorite Strictly Ballroom because dancing is HAWT, yo.
Why the prize fiesta? Because we are alive and creating, and for that I am blissfully thankful.
We can’t change the past—we can only change ourselves going forward.
What Sarah F. said. Vote. It’s the greatest slap in the face to those who would take away our freedoms, and it’s your greatest gift and responsibility as a citizen.
Thank you, Alex, for the Hot Ass story. That one made me snort.
Oh, and speaking of snorting…
My co-worker that shares this office plays a country-music station on her radio all the time. I just heard a song where the chorus is, “Tequila makes her clothes fall off.”
That one actually has a fun music video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqv-2emERFw
And just for kicks…I’d like to see a romance novel with this title:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqv-2emERFw
I was just thinking how grateful I am to have a happy, healthy family. My heart goes out to those who lost someone this day 7 years ago. And to all those who have given their lives and their freedom, before during and after 9/11, and who sacrificed so much, so my daughter can grow up free. That’s not exatly as eloquent as I had hoped, but it’s heart felt!
OOH. SILLINESS. I HAS IT.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q2yJ46UkXZ0
Just open the link and then minimize the window so you just hear the song.
I dunno who Tim Wilson got through this song without laughing…
This thread is reminding me of Thanksgiving for some reason.
Anyway, even though I do not agree with the majority of what has happened in this country after 9/11, I am eternally grateful I live in a place where I can disagree with my government and not get beaten to death for expressing my beliefs.
And now for something completely different! My horoscope, by the ONION:
Pisces February 19 – March 20
Next week, you will suffer a broken heart, or whatever it is you call it when all your aortic valves tear loose at once.
This does not bode well.
I meant HOW he got through song.
Oh, Titivillus, by you all things are lost…
You’ve all said some wise, thoughtful, and funny things. I’m all for the airlift and drop of H/S novels all over the middle east!
Looking at pictures of this baby hippo makes me so happy on a day like this!
http://www.zandavisitor.com/newsarticle-340-Rare_Pygmy_Hippopotamus_Born_at_Tampa
If I give myself a few minutes of quiet, I remember that day seven years ago vividly. I was working as a receptionist at an airplane security firm. I had conversations in French, Italian and English from clients all over the world. Everyone was so concerned and worried, and yet, it was wonderful to know that humanity was coming together in that way. Even amidst the barely contained panic, I remember feeling connected to my fellow man in a way I never had before.
I was in Oklahoma City the day of the bombing. I was a senior in HS on a field trip to see the Importance of Being Earnest. Then I felt so isolated as an Oklahoman. I know the country was rocked, but honestly, I couldn’t get over being an Oklahoman. That sort of thing just didn’t happen in Oklahoma. I was in shock and nothing has ever really shocked me since then. Once horror is in your backyard, you know it can happen anywhere.
Still, I will hold onto that golden feeling of connection I had with my fellow humanity on 9/11 and continue to let the passage of time dull my horror in OKC that day. I will always be glad that I can give comfort in many languages and doubly glad that I am not doing it any more as a receptionist. I will remember the many pivotal events in history that I lived through. I will look forward to the day that we celebrate this day like we celebrate Pearl Harbor day, when it is less immediate, when we remember only the heros and not the blunders that followed or preceeded.
Hee. Thanks, Silver James. 🙂
The Irish blessing above made me think of one of my favorites—or, rather, what I believe is actually the end of a blessing (can’t be arsed to look it up): May you be half an hour in heaven before the Devil knows you’re dead.
I like country music, myself. I was raised on it. And classic rock. Country’s still good for rainy days, depending on the music. One of my current favorites has the chorus, “If you’re going through hell / Keep on goin’, don’t slow down / If you’re scared, don’t show it / You might get out ‘fore the Devil even knows you’re there.”
Apparently, the devil’s on my mind? Or maybe I’m just hungry.
I’ve been using today as a kind of excuse to sit back and appreciate all my blessings. I’m really being lazy, but I am aware of how lucky I am, which should count for something.
I remember hearing a hilarious country and western song about a man who really, really regrets having a three-way with his girlfriend and someone else. I’ve been searching for it ever since. It was hilllllarious.
i can’t believe it’s been seven years.
I was in Dublin, Ireland, for a friend’s wedding. We were meeting other friends at the airport when they announced the attack over the PA. I’ll never forget how surreal it all was, yet how glad I was the next day that we were celebrating life and love in the face of the attacks.
I don’t know why it impacted me so hard, except amybe because I was going into the military in bare weeks after it happened, but even now, I am reminded of it whenever I see those numbers.
On the clock, on my phone, on the tv shows. To me, that number is no longer automatically associated with those old “Rescue 911” shows that Capt Kirk narrated. Or with what I should dial if I’m in trouble. Or with my birthday juxtaposed. Only that day.
And I’m not sure if it’s just me that’s like that. Or WHY even I’ve been impacted by it SO much. I was working that day, and didn’t even see the footage until after my shift 9 hours later…
Neither my ass nor my acre is wise, but occasionally I fake it brilliantly.
The opposite of love isn’t hatred, but fear. We only hate what we fear, and getting to know our fears, and having power over them, dissolves our hatred.
And that’s enough philosophy for today.
Congrats, Dr. Snarkhunter! Your fortitude to stick it out that long impresses the hell out of me (still working on the first year of undergrad studies, one course per term, at age 41).
To all my fellow secre—administrative assistants out there:
How is a secretary different from a toilet? A toilet can only handle one asshole at a time.
(This joke works for just about any service-type job you can name.)
I didn’t notice the date because everyone calls this day 9/11 and we write the day, then month (in England). It wasn’t until midmorning I had an oxygen order to send out to a patient the penny dropped. I came home this evening and made my Mum a proper tea and gave her a big hug. At present my Dad’s still out in Iraq (he came home for his half-time break and let slip that his camp had been attacked by rockets 64 times), but Mum and I have got each other. I did pretty much the same thing on the seventh of July, the anniversary of the tube bombing too.
(And I continue to write smutty stories, with said Mum’s amused approval.)
What am I grateful for??? My son’s ability to make me laugh with his word skills. Yesterday he and my mother beat egg whites and I asked him how he knew they were ready- he said because the pricks were stiff…cause Momma you can’t cook with soft pricks!! ..After I picked my self up off the floor I just hugged him cause he makes me laugh everyday.
My friend Jess is a firefighter; she got up at 2am this morning to go down to the firehouse to help plant 343 flags. I’m not sure why, but I felt happy that they were doing that. Somehow it felt like a positive kind of remembering.
Now, for random silliness I bring my favorite joke:
(Better when read out loud.)
What do you call an empty can of Cheez Whiz?
.
.
.
.
.
Cheez Was!
Some of my favourite words ever, which is especially poignant today, because it’s 9/11 and because I lost a loved one today.
Death is that state in which one exists only in the memories of others, which is why it is not an end.
Tasha Yar, Star Trek: The Next Generation.
Well, since a little romance is always a good thing:
Christian and Oliver
It’s an absolutely wonderful gay storyline from a German soap opera that’s been going on since I believe it was last November. As such, the playlist is a bit long but hey, if you’ve got a few hours to kill it’s worth every minute. 🙂
oh me! pick me!
i lived in london on 9/11 and had heathrow traffic diverted over my head for a couple of weeks. we had a reminder every 10 minutes or so…
Speaking of wiseasses, Paul Mercurio’s ass should be declared one of the Seven Wonders of the Modern World.
I meant to say this earlier, but congratulations Dr. Snarkhunter! That’s wonderful news.
Life is good.
(So are these prizes.) Happy Thursday, all.
In Language
by J. Eugene Gloria
After we make love, I teach you
words I am slowly forgetting,
names for hands, breast, hair and river.
And in the telling, I find myself
astonished, recalling the music
in my grandmother’s words
before she left this world—
words you don’t forget, like a mandate
from heaven. She said, It’s in the act
of cleansing that we kill the spirit—
ourselves; every culture’s worst enemy
is its own people.
And so I teach you, to remind
myself what it means when I say,
hali ka rito, come here, tell me
the names for ocean, stars, river
and sun—and you tell me
what you remember from the moments
in which the telling arose. You say
hair instead of river; you say breasts
instead of hands; you say
cock and cunt
instead of moon, sea, and stars.
Ummm….
I’m starting a teaching job abroad at the end of the month, and had a dream last night that I ran over a bunch of children in a school bus, and then got to finally use my Wilderness First Responder training to set up triage.
Perhaps I’m going into the wrong line of work? Probably not something I should bring up in my visa interview at the consolate, I’m thinking
Damn right! I near drool at that scene in Exit to Eden where he’s buck. I just want to bite it or use it like a stressball!
9/11/2001 was my second day at my first real, post-college “grown-up” job. I was living with my sister at the time and we heard the first report on the radio as we were both getting ready to go to work, though it was the initial reports in a city half a country away and we didn’t realize the scope of it all. Only later as we were trying to locate our cousin in Manhattan and my sister (who worked for the government) was evacuated from her workplace did it all sink in.
I vaguely remember the Challenger, though honestly mostly because of the Punky Brewster episode. Oklahoma City sort of passed me by. But now my generation has a Pearl Harbor, a JFK assassination – not in any way to belittle other tragedies. But on this day, I think the world simply stopped for all of us, everywhere.
Today is a normal day for me, which I think is good. But I’m going to enjoy my lunch and a good book a little more, I’m going to root my USL team on with a bit more joy (and anguish, the way they’ve been playing.) I’m going to enjoy having dinner with my boyfriend and seeing friends. I’m going to feel the sun on my face and smile.
(By the way, the Hansard/Irglova acceptance speech is one of my favorite Oscar moments, especially since John Stewart showed such class in calling her back out to get to speak. Lovely.)
To be honest, my ass is so big that if I left a wiseass comment, it’s still going to cover roughly one wiseacre.
OKay—I’m not sitting on a dictionary so I’m afraid my ass ain’t that smart. If I sit on a philosophy book, does that mean it will get wise? Or like the rest of us, does it only get wise after it gets screwed?
Just wondering.
I like your coping mechanism better than the media’s—do you think CNN will get wise to giving away swag?
Congrats, Dr snarkhunter, ma’am!
I have mixed feelings about today.
I understand all those who want to mourn the loss of loved ones, our collective loss of innocence, and everything else that 9/11/2001 brought us. I will never judge anyone for that, as we each need different ways of coping with what happened.
However, I am glad that, for the first time since 2001, my birthday (today) has not been overshadowed with wall-to-wall coverage in the media. I’d like to be able to celebrate my birthday without feeling guilty.
My 24th birthday was horrible- that doesn’t mean that all my birthdays have to be.
As am I! That really just says it all.
I adore Strictly Ballroom—prob one of my favorite movies (and we are considering having our wedding dance to “time after time!).
My husband got home from a business trip last night and we celebrated just being together.
My kids will get off the school bus soon and will want hugs and snacks from me.
I spent the day reading, remembering, and writing something new.
I am blessed.
9/11 or as we would write it 11/9 is a day I remember friends because while I personally didn’t know anyone, or so I thought.
Then I heard that a friend from college here in Ireland’s sister was in one of the towers. She was all over the news here. It personalised the tragedy and made it all the much more real, not just something tragic but somehow vague.
Well as depressing and cliche as this comment might be, I’ll share with you a poem I wrote directly after that day, 7 years ago. Keep in mind I was much younger and still learning about the magic of language.
All-American
There once was a girl, who lived with her mother.
She had no dad, but an older brother.
On September eleventh she cried all day,
But her family and friends were all okay.
That tragic day she cried and cried,
Even though she lived on the far west side.
You see, her only lifelong dream
was to approach the twin towers and see how they gleam.
To see them in their fame and glory,
a permanent chapter in her life story.
The glorious towers she will never see,
for the buildings are now a heap of debris.
She is not selfish to cry at that sight,
for many of us did not sleep that night.
When this happened 7 years ago, I was pregnant with my son, my first child. I was thinking about how I was bringing a child in this world and it seemed to be falling apart. And then it dawned on me that maybe my son would be the one to make this a better world along with my help. I STILLL believe he can make this a better world. And so can we all. With love.